Christmas Texts
by elphabathedelirious32
Summary: Jumping on the modern epistolary bandwagon...Sherlock is kidnapped, John is sat upon, and both need milk. Christmas away from Baker Street, via text message. No slash, sorry.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I decided to jump on this bandwagon a bit accidentally. My friend Lydia, who calls herself John to my Sherlock, likes to greet me by asking me if I've gotten the milk and beans yet. Since we're both home for Christmas and were both bored, this is what resulted. I've edited them, so hopefully they're coherent, though there may be some OOC-ness. **

Dec. 21 2010 23:18

JW: Have you gotten the milk and beans yet?

SH: You get it. I'm not allowed in Tesco after the last time. Not that you heard about that, you were stupid enough to let yourself get strapped to a bomb. –SH

JW: I'm ignoring that. There are other places to buy milk.

SH: Far.

JW: Not really.

SH: Yes, really.

JW: Try a cow then.

SH: John, this is central London, there are no cows.

SH: Though I can procure a cow for the flat if you like.

JW: NO. Don't give Mrs. Hudson another heart attack!

SH: Oh, I take it she found Yorick's friend.

JW: More like the rest of Yorick.

SH: Well, if she would stop hiding his head!

JW: Also, I thought I was Yorick.

SH: Yorick is a seventy-two year old male of Asian descent. You're his substitute.

JW: Well, if you've got Yorick and Anderson, why do you need me?

SH: I don't have him, Sally does. Regularly.

JW: What?

SH: Has Anderson. And I need you because Yorick doesn't do the shopping and if Anderson came in here I'd shoot him.

December 22, 01:29

[unknown number]: Hello, John, I won't be in -SH

JW: YOU. MILK.

SH: Well, I'm not exactly in London.

JW: WHAT? WHERE ARE YOU?

SH: France. I think.

JW: YOU THINK?

JW: You THINK?

JW: FRANCE?

SH: Well, I was rather unconscious for most of the trip.

JW: I HAVE NO WORDS ANYMORE.

SH: And it wasn't really voluntary. But based on the colour of the soil on the boots of the men who brought me here, I'd say we're in Carcassonne.

JW: I told you to please stop crossing borders without telling me.

SH: I DIDN'T DO IT ON PURPOSE.

JW: Interpol's going to throw a fit.

SH: Tell them to throw it at Mycroft.

JW: How do you think I know about it?

SH: I told him I wasn't going to have Christmas with him. So he had me kidnapped. Again.

JW: Can you please tell me why there's a cow on the roof?

SH: Oh—I thought you wanted one, so I borrowed her from my friend Walter. Feed her, please.

JW: No. Your cow, dear, you feed her.

SH: /Dear/?

SH: I'm sure you can picture my facial expression.

JW: Dear person whose head I would like to bang in.

JW: Wait.

SH: Bash?

JW: Bash would be a bit better there, wouldn't it?

SH: Just a bit.

SH: So why don't you believe Mycroft kidnapped me?

JW: If he kidnapped you to bring you home for Christmas, he should have you trussed up at his house.

SH: Mummy stays in France sometimes. I'm sure we're going to her.

JW: ….Mummy?

SH: Yes. Oh, good, she'll be cross with him, she told him not to abduct me.

JW: Mummy?

SH: Yes, John, I have a mother. I am not Macduff.

JW: /Mummy/?

SH: Though he had a mother too, she was just dead. Athena. No, hers was a fly.

JW: MUMMY?

SH: Yes…

JW: Not Mum?

SH: No, why?

JW: Mummy is so childish. Unexpected.

SH: I love my mother. She's brilliant.

SH: Obviously.

JW: You're so cute.

SH: Cute?

JW: It's just, you know, sweet.

SH: I'm making the face again John.

JW: I'd just like to give you a noogie.

SH: A /what/?

SH: That sounds deplorable.

JW: Knuckles + scalp = friction

SH: …why?

JW: It's a sign of affection.

SH: Why would that be a sign of affection. It sounds like it would hurt, not to mention muck up one's hair.

JW: Yes.

JW: Clearly you're the younger child.

SH: Well, you already knew that, it's fairly obvious that Mycroft's older than I am.

JW: Really? Does he say Mum?

SH: No, he says Mummy, you've heard him.

JW: When?

SH: When he came to irritate me at the end of what you call Study in Pink.

JW: ?

SH: I think it was, "This petty feud between us is so childish. People will suffer. And you know how it upsets Mummy." So dramatic.

JW: Sherlock, do you have a photographic memory?

SH: Don't be absurd, that was auditory.

JW: Oh, whatever.

SH: You did ask.

JW: Nyaah.

SH: And I'm childish?

JW: Bloody hell! I can't go.

SH: You can't go?

JW: No shit, Sherlock!

SH: I'm ignoring your clearly sleep-deprived state. Where can you not go?

JW: You know you miss me. Come back. Otherwise I have to go to Harry's.

SH: Well, I am bored, and my brother is a shit kidnapper.

SH: Maybe I'll jump off the moving train.

JW: You should swim the channel.

SH: No.

JW: Why?

SH: Cold.

JW: less broken bones

SH: Fewer. And in order to swim the Channel, I'd have to jump off the train.

JW: Why are you on a train?

SH: Swimming the channel would be pointless. I pickpocketed my guard, I can buy a ticket back.

SH: Because my brother has a flair for the dramatic and read too much Agatha Christie as a child.

JW: I love Agatha Christie!

SH: Yes, well.

JW: What's that supposed to mean?

SH: Nothing, John, nothing at all.

JW: I am confused and sad at the same time.

SH: Sad?

JW: Yes, sad like your sad, pathetic chair.

SH: I don't think chairs have emotions. And what's pathetic about my chair?

JW: Ssssh. Pretend they do.

SH: We're not talking, we're typing. There's really no way to alter the volume.

JW: Remember how I dislike you being logical sometimes?

SH: Mmm. Well.

SH: Have you seen my brother lately?

JW: told you, he called me about interpol

JW: I assume he's in bed

SH: Course he called you about Interpol since it's his fault.

JW: what that you have a 'special status' in their records?

SH: Probably.

SH: Didn't keep me from going to Belarus, which is a lot dodgier than France.

JW: He probably wanted you to go to Belarus. also, who's Walter and why did he give you a cow?

SH: Walter was one of my professors when I stayed at Harvard for a bit. He lent me his cow because he has to leave his lab for a few weeks. You'd probably say he's a bit off.

JW: that's saying something

SH: He self-medicates too. With LSD.

JW: I just found your crack stash. You were saying?

SH: Please, John, it's not crack. Don't you know the difference? Aren't you meant to be a doctor? And you're not going to trick me into telling you that way.

JW: white powdery stuff that makes the room spin? Please, give me some credit here

SH: Not crack. And not how I use it.

JW: oh, really?

SH: I will tell you Scotland Yard's finest missed what was right in front of their faces...

JW: ...please for the love of anything holy don't tell me you've been putting it in the tea

SH: That wouldn't even work.

JW: Or, I don't know, the biscuits

SH: Would. Not. Work.

SH: And really, when do I put ANYTHING in the tea?

JW: potpourri? Rally bad tea.

JW: *really

JW: when do you drink tea?

SH: I drink tea. Tea requires minimal processing and has caffeine in it which is a reasonably useful addition to the nicotine.

JW: instead of coffee, I mean

SH: When it's therre.

SH: -r

SH: Hate Mycroft's phone. So difficult to text.

SH: Have you found it?

JW: You stole your brother's phone?

SH: Yes.

SH: He took mine first.

JW: Oh, that makes it all right.

JW: Sherlock?

JW: Sherlock, where are you?

JW: Bloody hell. I hope you're all right. I know I won't be after Harry's.


	2. Chapter 2

Dec. 22 2010 17:41

JW: Got the milk?

SH: Why would I bring milk when neither of us is at the flat?

JW: Eventually we will need milk and you will be the one bringing it.

SH: Eventually, yes.

JW: When?

SH: When we are both back at the flat. I am still in France, or maybe Spain, and you are with your sister.

JW: You can't escape then, and come back before Christmas?

SH: No, sorry.

JW: It will be too late.

SH: The milk? For what?

JW: I will be dead.

SH: WHAT?

JW: Fratricide.

SH: Oh. That's not funny.

JW: You've never met Harry you don't know.

JW: And now I'm sharing a flat with you.

SH: Just give her some vodka and run. At least she's never kidnapped you.

JW: She's making assumptions about us. And she's an alcoholic, remember?

SH: So? She had a Clara, what does she care? Also, that's the point of the vodka.

JW: Sometimes…I wish I was an only child who lived alone.

SH: Were.

JW: Sorry?

SH: Conditional clause. Were, not was.

JW: You're getting coal for Christmas. You were my excuse not to come here.

SH: Mycroft's stuck me on a train with intermittent cell reception, three imbeciles, and a hideously boring mystery novel that I think is his idea of a joke, if it makes you feel any better.

SH: And next year, I will be your excuse, which would not be the case if you lived alone. I can ask Mycroft to kidnap you now if you'd like.

JW: Kidnap Harry. Also, why are you still on the train?

SH: Apparently we're picking up some documents in Spain. I loathe my brother.

JW: And you just acquieced.

JW: Acquiested.

SH: Acquiesced.

JW: Gave in?

JW: So close.

SH: Hardly. I've escaped four times. He's got the entire route under some kind of surveillance, I think they're ex-SAS.

SH: Ugh, time to go, I've got to steal these papers. Have fun with Harry, John.

JW: I hate you.

JW: Call me later.

Dec 22, 2010: 20:14

SH: I'm going to kill my brother –SH

JW: Strangers on a Train style?

SH: What? He's not on the train now. Anyway, he's just stuck a psychologist on here…

JW: Oh, right, pop culture. It's Hitchcock.

SH: Who?

JW: Ask the psychologist. And you deserve it.

SH: I do not.

JW: Yes you do. Oh, joy, dinnertime. Wish me luck.

SH: Have fun. Perhaps she'll pass out. Like the psychologist just did…

JW: That makes how many now?

SH: Seven.

JW: I've got a sudden urge to swim the Channel.

SH: Good luck with that and your shoulder.

Dec 22, 2010 22:34

JW: What's your opinion on fruitcake?

SH: What's fruitcake?

JW: Seriously? Cake with dried fruit and nuts and things in it soaked in rum…

SH: Oh. I have no opinion on fruitcake.

JW: Oh. Because my mum's made two enormous ones and she's threatening to send one home with me.

SH: Well, I can hate fruitcake.

JW: Too late, I told her you'd never had it.

SH: Idiot.

JW: I'm going to force feed it to you for that.

SH: Try. Bring a step stool.

SH: Tell her my brother is allergic to nuts and he's coming over for Boxing Day and I'd feel bad.

JW: No. He'd be entertained, and neither of us will be back for Boxing Day.

SH: Fine. I'm not eating your fruitcake.

JW: Yes you will.

JW: There's nothing to do here.

SH: Set the fruitcake on fire.

JW: They won't let me. I asked.

SH: Why would you do that?

JW: It's called flambé, Sherlock, and last time I tried it they freaked a bit.

SH: So?

JW: It's their house, not my flat.

SH: So?

JW: Harry threatened to sit on me again if I did.

SH: You're an army doctor, don't you know self-defence?

JW: You don't know Harry, and I'm injured.

SH: You should have taken your gun.

JW: Not killing my family, thanks.

SH: Just for threatening. Since apparently it's all right for Harry to assault you.

JW: You've got an older brother, you know what it's like.

SH: I'd shoot Mycroft if he sat on me. You know, if I didn't suffocate instantly from the pressure.

JW: We're not the same person.

SH: Obviously.

JW: Though I feel like you now.

SH: How's that?

JW: Bored.

SH: Set Harry on fire.

JW: I spy something starting with…T.

SH: Not even I can do this with so few data.

JW: T.

SH: Fine. Turkey.

JW: No.

SH: Tea.

JW: Not edible. It's probably on you.

SH: Trousers. I haven't actually.

JW: ….why?

JW: Sherlock.

SH: What? Am I right?

JW: Why are you not wearing trousers?

SH: Didn't feel like it. Don't worry John, I'm wearing underclothes.

JW: Please tell me

why I live with you and

that you're not on the train still and

that you're not under arrest in Spain for public nudity

SH: a) I relieve your tremor and boredom

b) I'm not

c) I'm in Italy

JW: I'm in pain and bored. You're not doing a very good job. Why are you in Italy?

SH: I'm not with you and tremors don't hurt.

JW: My leg hurts and it's all your fault.

SH: Ooh, Mummy made lasagne! And no, everything is Mycroft's fault.

JW: I hate you right now.

SH: Mycroft probably started the war. Hate him.

JW: You could have escaped if you wanted to. And you're closer.

SH: I did, four times, and he's right next to me.

SH: Oh, he says he did not start THAT war (emphasis added)

JW: Pass my sentiments on, will you?

SH: He also says, "Sherlock, tell Dr. Watson that I occupy a minor position in the British government. And Happy Christmas." He says perhaps the two of us are more alike than he thought.

JW: You're obviously not doing a good enough job passing on the hate and how do you have lasagne?

SH: My mother made it, I told you, and we're in Tuscany.

JW: Oh, right, off the train. Punch Mycroft after dinner.

JW: Bring back wine then

SH: Will try. Give John his mobile back, Harry.

JW: btw cant wait to meet u johnnie says hi

SH: Did he wet his bed as a child?

JW: sometimes- no worries i sat on 'im after and he stopped

JW: srsly need wine

SH: I will make a valiant effort, Miss Harriet.

JW: nice wine

SH: Nothing but the best of course.

JW: thx let me know if you need dirt on my idiot brother

SH: Oh, I will.

JW: if you hurt him ill kill u kthx bye

JW: SEE?

SH: Your sister is charming, John, if in need of remedial grammar lessons, although I suppose two bottles of wine and…three Scotches will do that.

JW: I TOLD YOU. That and she hates this phone.

SH: Yes, well, she did give it to you.

JW: Which gives you an idea of this relationship.

SH: Did she really sit on you when you wet the bed?

JW: How are you not wearing trousers in Tuscany? Do you have a house there? (I'm ignoring your question)

SH: Mycroft says that the location of our house is classified

JW: You just told me.

SH: Hmm, so I did. Oops.

JW: Hah.

SH: It's not as though it's important to his minor government position, after all.

JW: If a SWAT team shows up I'm giving them Harry, it's her mobile.

SH: John, I want you to be aware that my brother is subject to occasional delusions, especially concerning his paranoid belief that I and the government are spying on him. –Mycroft

JW: See previous texts and I hate you

SH: If he believes that I am watching him, he behaves betthekskdfjsklfjsf

SH: HAH! I WIN!

JW: Good job.

SH: He can't run very quickly.

JW: Tell him it's his own fault.

SH: I did. Six times. Oh, and I'm not delusional.

JW: Uh-huh. If I tell you Harry's a fleeing suspect will you beat her up for me? Yes. Yes you will.

SH: No, I can get Mycroft to have it done though. He wet the bed until I told him about the Macdonald Triad.

JW: He's too lazy and the who?

SH: Not personally, his men.

SH: The triad of behaviors observed in 95% of serial murderers as children.

JW: Oh. You had all of them didn't you?

SH: Actually just two, and rather mildly.

JW: Don't lie, I'll get Mycroft to tell me

SH: He was only fourteen, he didn't have surveillance on me then.

JW: Uh huh

SH: I never tortured animals, just cut up dead ones, and I only set fire to a few very little things.

JW: Oh well then, you perfect angel.

SH: As though you never did.

JW: I don't think I ever did, no, though I've suppressed most of my childhood.

SH: She can't have been that bad, or was it your father?

JW: And outside influences.

SH: Poor John, did the other little children tease you?

JW: I don't want to talk about it

SH: Okay.

SH: So is that why you wet your bed?

JW: Not. Talking. About. It.

JW: My limp came back.

SH: Is it like hiccups?

JW: Uh, no.

SH: Seems kind of like hiccups.

JW: Figure it out already!

SH: You limp when you're bored.

JW: First it's psychosomatic then its hiccups and apparently I get a tremor when I'm bored?

SH: No no no

JW: Psychosomatic hiccup tremors?

SH: It is psychosomatic because it goes away when you're distracted ergo gets worse when you're bored. It's like hiccups because you can be shocked out of it.

SH: The tremor is in your left hand and disappears when you're focused or stressed.

JW: I hate you and your brother. Harry's singing.

SH: Good luck then.


	3. Chapter 3

Dec 23, 2010 20:36

JW: How are you?

SH: Mummy made dessert. I ate five. Mycroft wants another. We are making disapproving faces at one another.

JW: What was it? Give her my regards?

SH: Linzertorte. She says thank you John, happy Christmas, and you must be a brave man. She and I are going to look at an archaeological dig later.

JW: You're going to get fat and say thank you and tell her if she ever wants to send some my way I'm a long-suffering starving man who puts up with you.

SH: Will not. She has. And for Harry.

JW: You will so and I shall eat anything she intends for Harry. The brat doesn't deserve it.

SH: I find that entirely acceptable. Besides, Harry's getting Chianti from me.

JW: You're sucking up. Bringing fava beans too?

SH: I'm hardly sucking up. I want to test what acidity level of wine causes the most rapid liver deterioration.

SH: And I don't want to eat your sister.

JW: Of course you get that one.

JW: Frozen cupcakes are odd. Mum says hi.

SH: Hello.

JW: She says and I quote "you're so lucky to have John except when he does something stupid like eat frozen pastries which tends to happen a lot just smack him

JW: around the ear. Oh and enjoy your holiday." Don't smack me or I will pin you down.

SH: Hah.

JW: Now you understand my life.

SH: No, I really don't think I do.

JW: What's left?

SH: I really just don't think it's comprehensible. Why does your mother care if you eat frozen pastries?

JW: She thinks it's a flaw that I get too impatient to let them thaw.

SH: I eat dough. That's not a flaw.

JW: So that judgment is biased.

SH: Judgment is always biased. Only deductive analysis is impartial.

JW: You are not my mother and I thought you were always analytical so why are you judging?

SH: I was making a semantic point. And notions of character, flaws, and morality are all judgments, not analyses, and therefore biased. So according to my scheme of morality which is admittedly loose and utilitarian that is not a flaw.

JW: Uh huh. So what's your family like?

SH: I just texted you a paragraph on utilitarian ethics. What do you think?

JW: I got two sentences of it and I think you are the odd duck of the family. Because they have feelings.

SH: I have feelings.

JW: Really.

SH: Like my feeling that I would kneecap Mycroft for a cigarette right now. That's a feeling.

JW: No, that's a destructive urge. Make him give you patches.

SH: I would kneecap Mycroft for FUN.

SH: He thinks with his primary school knowledge of chemistry that I will kill myself with them.

JW: That's sibling rivalry and ignorance.

SH: Rivalry is a feeling

JW: Nope.

SH: It comes from pride and envy.

SH: I love my mother. Feeling.

JW: I'm talking about feeling feelings—like empathy and the warm fuzzies.

SH: If pride is not a legitimate feeling then neither are the 'warm fuzzies'

SH: And empathy isn't a feeling, it's a type of feeling.

JW: So is pride and warm fuzzies is a technical term.

SH: I can feel warm. I do now. And is feeling fuzzy when you have fuzzy socks, or when you're hungover? Because I have fuzzy socks.

JW: Only if they're on your soul.

SH: Why would I have socks on my soul?

SH: Is that a terrible pun for sole?

SH: Besides, isn't love a feeling?

SH: Got to go, Mycroft's wife is cheating on him.

JW: More than one kind of love, discuss this later.

JW: Good luck. He seems like a crier.

Dec 24, 2010, 11:52

JW: Happy Christmas Eve! How are you?

SH: Fine.

JW: I'm good too, thanks.

SH: Oh, Mycroft doesn't know.

JW: Doesn't know wha—oh, don't spoil the holiday for him.

JW: Is she there?

SH: I don't think he'd care.

SH: Yes. How do you suppose I know?

JW: I don't know, I never know.

JW: What are you going to do?

SH: I've already done it.

JW: Which was?

SH: Think about it. Hint: you're going to make a disapproving face and say, 'Oh, Sherlock, you /didn't/.'

JW: Be an ass and tell him? Be a jerk and tell her?

JW: Tell your mother?

SH: Oh, I didn't have to tell his wife. She's perfectly aware that I know.

JW: Stare at her?

SH: No. Well, yes, earlier. But that isn't why she knows I know.

JW: Did you do the thing with the hands and the creepy staring?

SH: Hands were involved. And other body parts. Keep guessing, this is very enlightening.

JW: Were you wearing trousers at the time?

SH: I actually was, mostly. Recall just how angry I am at Mycroft?

JW: Oh Sherlock you DIDN'T.

SH: Didn't I?

JW: You didn't make him think she was sleeping with you?

SH: Oh this is SO enlightening.

SH: Yes. Well, that was the intent. All I managed to prove was that either she cheats compulsively, Mycroft works all night, or Mycroft doesn't care what she does, or all three.

JW: Tell me.

SH: Why would you assume that I didn't actually sleep with her?

JW: You would cheat on me that way?

SH: ?

JW: Hi. Guess who stole my phone.

SH: Ah. Four glasses in? Her texting ability is impressive.

JW: Because you don't want to damage Mycroft that much.

JW: Spelling, yes, singing, no.

SH: But how would it be different? He'd still think I did it. She thinks I did it. Alcohol is useful.

JW: What? Who thinks who did what with whom?

SH: Julia thinks she and I had sex.

JW: MTV.

JW: Asahahahahahahahaha

JW: Hahahahahahahaha

SH: Harry, give John back his mobile.

SH: Or no wine.

JW: That last one was actually me.

SH: I thought you were mad.

JW: The fact that anyone would give up a normal bloke to have an affair with you is mad

JW: Though you're quite cute

SH: Mycroft is not normal, and thanks Harry.

JW: btw I missss yooooo

SH: Um.

JW: Comne baaaaack

JW: This bed feels soooo empttyyyyyy

SH: Harry, give John back his phone and ring Clara on yours please.

JW: Don't wakshfkshgklsgjdfg

SH: That you getting it back John?

JW: Yes, sorry, she's in bed. I still think it's illogical. Mycroft's more normal than you are.

SH: Mycroft has a wife he doesn't love and two children he never sees in order to appear normal, which makes him in fact less normal than me.

JW: That's called a beard, are you sure he's not gay? I bet he feels some kind of love for them.

SH: He's not gay, he just doesn't care. Like me, only I don't pretend.

JW: Why does it matter that she's cheating then?

JW: People need love.

SH: It doesn't matter, I'm making the point that it doesn't matter to him.

JW: Lovely way to do it. What does your mother think?

SH: Mother prefers not to notice. She would mind if it hurt Mycroft, but it doesn't. I think she understands.

JW: Your mother is a unique woman.

SH: Obviously.

SH: Back to why you assumed I wouldn't really sleep with Julia.

JW: Morals, some nagging sense your brother might care, my feelings about you hooking up with random women, STDS.

SH: These are things that bother you. Except for the last, which is easily prevented.

JW: So why didn't you?

SH: Boring.

JW: Ah yes, sex is boring. I'd forgotten.

SH: Got to go, Mycroft's here.


	4. Chapter 4

Dec 24 2010, 15:34

JW: Are you alive?

SH: Yes, he didn't notice.

JW: Of course not. Does he think sex is boring, too?

SH: Why would I ever ask him that?

JW: You know, I might have expected this response from you. I cannot imagine you with a sex drive. Or being able to sustain a relationship.

SH: I had a relationship once

JW: With a woman? Or a man?

SH: Woman

JW: A /living/ woman?

SH: Yes.

JW: To be clear: a romantic relationship, boyfriend-girlfriend

SH: YES

JW: And how did that go?

SH: Boring

JW: How long did it last?

SH: Too long.

JW: So four days then?

SH: Year and a half.

JW: Good lord. How much therapy did she need?

SH: Hah. She'd never go to therapy.

JW: Tell me about that year and a half.

SH: Are you a therapist now?

JW: Shut up.

JW: Seriously, tell me.

JW: Come off it, Sherlock, I didn't mean stop texting, and you know it.

SH: Fine. What about it? It was like always only sometimes she and I had to go out.

JW: You still keep in touch?

SH: I didn't really ever touch her—oh, you mean do we ring each other, yeah.

SH: I'm sure you'll meet her. Try not to shoot her.

JW: What.

SH: She might break into our flat. She does that.

JW: Might? Can I get a percent chance on that?

SH: When?

JW: In the next week?

SH: .0000001%.

JW: In the next month?

SH: 63%.

SH: I mean she might also ring like a normal human and charm you and Mrs. Hudson out of your life savings, but…

JW: So you dated a serial killer.

SH: No

JW: Charming, liable to break into the house, withstood you for a year…it adds up

SH: Sociopath =/= serial killer.

SH: Donovan does not understand this but I thought you knew better. You should, you know me.

JW: Explain?

SH: Seriously?

JW: Yes

SH: Not all sociopaths are serial killers, not all serial killers are sociopaths.

JW: Well, yes, but shooting? Break ins?

SH: Oh, no, I was warning you not to think she was Moriarty or something and shoot her if she were to break in.

JW: I thought you were implying something.

SH: What?

JW: "my ex might try to kill you"

SH: She probably won't.

JW: PROBABLY?

SH: Wait-

SH: No, definitely not. She just promised.

JW: Exact wording?

SH: "Sherlock, darling, I promise I will not shoot your beloved flatmate."

JW: As soon as I move out I'm a target.

SH: "Sherlock, darling, I promise I will not shoot John Watson."

JW: Just shooting?

SH: "Sherlock, darling, I promise I will not kill your extremely paranoid flatmate John Watson, now or ever."

SH: What about you then?

JW: Can't make any promises. Battle reflexes don't just go away.

SH: That's why I warned you.

JW: Warn her.

SH: She just told me that men commit twice as many incidents of friendly fire as women do, I think she's aware.

JW: This wouldn't be friendly fire.

SH: She's not your enemy

JW: Depends on the context.

SH: I thought real people didn't have enemies.

JW: Shut up—oh, not really.

SH: You're paranoid. She has no desire to hurt you, she just breaks in when she gets bored. I do it too.

JW: Make her text me if she's broken in and I prefer to think of it as being sensible.

SH: Fine.

SH: What if I were to break in?

JW: I'd be expecting you to be there

SH: In the middle of the night, coming through the window?

JW: This is why I sleep armed.

SH: That's what you think.

JW: What's that supposed to mean?

SH: Check your gun.

JW: I am going to die and it will be your fault. Where's the ammo?

SH: Where's my stash?

JW: Are you proposing a trade?

SH: No, you never found it. I'm telling you your bullets are with my stash.

JW: But you've admitted to using. I could ring Anderson. I'm sure he'd be happy to do the work for me.

SH: No, I didn't, I admitted it's there, and in addition to the fact that he's too busy trying not to make his wife suspicious and plotting to sneak off for an hour with Sally so she doesn't spend Christmas alone with two bottles of cheap wine and an Amy Grant CD sobbing and then ring him up drunk and threaten to tell his wife, he couldn't find it the last time anyway.

JW: You cannot _possibly _know that.

SH: Ring Sally then.

JW: I give up. What about my back-up?

SH: Do you _have _your back-up?

JW: Not at Harry's.

SH: Of course not.

JW: Having one around her is dangerous.

SH: That, and I know you don't have your back-up because I do.

JW: You bastard.

SH: What? I need to be able to defend myself. Do you know how many times I could have used a gun in the past month?

JW: No, but I'm sure you do.

SH: Five.

JW: Well, now I can't defend myself, since you've hidden my ammunition.

SH: Well, that and you didn't even bring your gun with you.

JW: Piss off.

JW: Goddamnit Sherlock! Not really.

JW: Come back, I have to ring off and go to church soon.

SH: Do I even have to say it?

JW: Shut up, it's Christmas Eve.

SH: I was at an archaeological dig this morning where there were remains from a Saturnalia celebration in ancient Rome. December 25th was also the birthday of the gods Attis and Mithras in various cultures, aside from being the winter solstice. If Christ existed, his birthday was probably in March.

JW: Did you nick anything?

SH: No. I respect the context, John. Context is everything, in archaeology and in detective work.

JW: Your mum's an archaeologist, isn't she?

SH: You're incredibly observant.

JW: Piss off and give me back my weapons.

SH: You know what's funny? You hid your own ammo, not me. You took it away when I was shooting the wall and hid it where you thought I wouldn't look. But you forgot.

JW: What, that you're insufferable?

SH: No, where you hid it.

JW: No!

SH: Yeees.

JW: I could go back right now and find it.

SH: No, you couldn't.

JW: I /will/.

SH: Okay.

JW: After Christmas.

SH: Okay.

JW: Don't patronise me Holmes.

SH: I'm agreeing with you.

JW: You're using that tone.

SH: I'm texting. And I'm in Italy. You've no idea what tone I would have used had I spoken those words rather than written them.

JW: I can hear you in my head. You're bloody haunting me.

SH: Good. Perhaps I'll improve your observational ability.

JW: I have to go. I'll be reachable in a few hours.

SH: Have fun at your ritual.

JW: I will. Mainly because there will be food.


	5. Chapter 5

Dec 24, 2010 20:15

JW: No, there is a voice in my head that is constantly narrating my life and it is your voice. That is how I know what tone you were using.

JW: Sherlock?

JW: Whatever, biscuits.

Dec 25, 2010 0:02

JW: Happy Christmas.

SH: John, just got your last text, are you sure you don't need a doctor?

Dec 25, 2010 6:44

JW: I am a doctor. Pretty sure everyone gets that voice sometimes. Mine just sounds like you now. I'm fine.

SH: I'm sure most paranoid schizophrenics think they're perfectly sane and everyone else just isn't paying attention.

JW: Sounds like you. And I don't have any of the other symptoms.

SH: Paranoia, auditory hallucinations, erratic behavior…

JW: Just a bit, and only regarding your ex, who I was told might break in! Reasonable.

SH: Yes. But. You texted me at six-forty-four this morning. That's erratic and annoying.

SH: Also you insisted on a legalistic promise that she wouldn't kill you, which is vaguely paranoid but amusing so nevermind.

JW: I was up, my phone was there. Why not? I find it odder that you responded seven minutes later, when I had gone back to sleep. In a chair in the living room.

JW: And assuming your ex is anything like you, leaving no loopholes made the most sense.

SH: Not really. Ugh, you texted me and then Mycroft's bloody ten-year-old appeared next to my bed shouting about Father Christmas so I got up and texted you back.

JW: I thought you didn't sleep.

SH: Not when I'm working. Not working = sleeping. My brother should appreciate this and keep his children /away/.

JW: I'd keep my children away from you anyway.

SH: I wonder how the urea levels in urine effect decomposition?

JW: See? See? It's Christmas morning, Sherlock. Go open presents and be happy like a human being.

SH: You know most human beings don't and haven't celebrated Christmas, right?

JW: Piss off, and this time I mean it. Don't come back until you've opened your gifts and had breakfast and drunk some eggnog.

SH: Revolting.

JW: Gifts? Family? Food?

SH: No, eggnog at half seven.

JW: Oh…I suppose that is true. Drink, I dunno, coffee then. Now go away.

SH: Ten year old brat forgiven.

JW: Why?

SH: He got me a shirt that says "I'm making perfect sense, you're just not keeping up." I don't wear t-shirts, but this might have to become my go-to outfit for cases.

JW: Trousers too, please.

SH: If I must.

SH: Isn't ten a bit old not to have done a handwriting analysis and realized that Father Christmas makes his a's the same way as Mummy and uses the same wrapping paper?

JW: Uh…no?

SH: Dull. I'll wear trousers if it makes you happy, John.

JW: What? Consideration! It's a Christmas miracle!

SH: Shut up.

JW: Wear your blazer, too, please. Then I can mock you even more.

SH: I do not understand the inexplicable amusement that you derive from my blazer, John.

JW: It amuses me.

SH: Tautological.

JW: It's the inexplicable amusement that I get from seeing you in a blazer.

JW: And could you use words that I don't have to look up on the Internet? It's annoying.

SH: I don't know the limitations of your vocabulary, John.

JW: Guess. I went to medical school, I didn't study English.

SH: Nor did I.

JW: What did you study, out of curiousity?

SH: Biology and Chemistry.

JW: Not psychology?

SH: Not officially. Psychology is an idiotic pseudoscience.

JW: What do you call what you do then?

SH: …logic.

JW: You know that's a course of study too.

SH: I'm being facetious. You know precisely what it's called.

JW: Oh right, your website. Also, I'm restraining myself from making a face pun.

SH: What?

JW: Facetious has face in it—puns could be made. Sorry, I'm a bit out of it, one of the family gave me a vicious cold and I've just had a bit of sherry.

JW: Harry's fault.

SH: The cold, or the sherry?

JW: The sherry.

JW: Actually, everything.

SH: Your cold's not going to be helped by the sherry, and watch your glass. Harry's behind you.

JW: That was my point, and you can't know that!

SH: Look.

JW: How- nevermind. If she tries to spike my drink now, I'll just fall asleep.

SH: Possibly. Or become even more ridiculous.

JW: True. You know how people don't want to turn into their parents? I don't want to turn into Harry.

SH: You seem to be doing well. Begin by remaining male and unmarried.

JW: I'm currently reading and enjoying an ettiquette book. The end is neigh.

SH: The end is a horse?

SH: And Harry wouldn't recognize /etiquette/ if it bit her.

JW: Neigh? Synonym for near?

SH: Nigh. Neigh, my dear Watson, is for horses.

JW: I was close. Whatever, I'll just be the well-behaved alcoholic child in the family.

SH: If your parents have two alcoholic children perhaps it is not with Harry that the problem lies.

JW: I'm not an alcoholic yet. I think. What do you say? Am I an alcholic Sherlock? Am I going to turn init my sister? Will you bring me back my sanity? Oohh I'm bored, maybe I'll turn into you instead…

SH: No. I hope not, I don't want to live with her, it sounds distinctly unpleasant. I'll try. I doubt it.

JW: So you'll bring it back?

SH: Yes.

JW: Oh good, I miss it. How's your Christmas?

SH: Much improved. Books on identifying modern diseases and human osteology with full-sized photographs. Not as useful as Yorick, but.

JW: Trade you. Better than etiquette.

SH: I thought you were enjoying it! Besides, I know etiquette already.

JW: Diseases trump what flowers to put out when. Oh really, because you do a fantastic job hiding it.

SH: Sometimes. Most times. But I do know it.

JW: I don't doubt you understand manners, you just choose to ignore them.

JW: Now onto how to plan a wedding…where to register…

SH: Counterspy shop, Mayfair.

JW: Ignoring the obvious joke about our wedding.

SH: Whose?

JW: Nevermind. They sell blazers, I take it.

SH: No, they sell spy equipment. Are you quite drunk?

JW: Disguised as blazers.

SH: Two glasses?

JW: Two and a half.

SH: Bit of a lightweight, aren't you?

JW: I'm fine. Just sick.

SH: Of course you are.

JW: Not like I'm driving anywhere unfortnately. I should turn on autocorrect because my spelling is getting unique.

SH: Yes, nearly seventeenth century.

JW: Just a few extra letters.

SH: Indeed.

JW: You know, I miss the flat.

JW: Lime the rooms you know?

JW: Like.

SH: Flat, with rooms, yes.

JW: That chair misses me.

SH: I'm sure it would if it had feelings.

JW: Not enough chairs here. In the only one.

SH: I suppose I do miss Mycroft spying on me from a comfortable distance, rather than staring across the table pretending not to watch me.

JW: Cause I'm better at it. The not watching. They're making me go outside. I'm taking the phone.

SH: You are less creepy. Why are they sending you outside?

JW: I'm not sensical.

SH: If only I could do that with Scitland Yard.

SH: Scotland! This phone is mercurial.

JW: Hah it's catching

SH: I hope not.

JW: Karma.

SH: Nonsense.

JW: Or the phone waves from me to you, whichever you prefer

SH: 'phone waves'?

JW: Not quite sober yet.

SH: Really.

JW: Not that it's noticeable or anything

SH: Not at all.

JW: Yeah, I just said that.

SH: Yes, you did.

JW: Shut up Sherlock I can hear you patronising me again

SH: Yes, with the little voice in your head.

JW: Are you ever nice?

SH: Yes.

SH: Yes, I can be very nice.

JW: Describe.

SH: I'm nice to Mrs. Hudson sometimes.

JW: You yell at her and tell her to bring you things.

SH: a) so do you, and b) you don't know everything.

JW: Meaning?

SH: I hug her, I distract her. She has a son who hasn't visited since her husband was accused. We remind her of him, having boys about the house.

JW: Oh.

SH: Yes, oh.

JW: Well, I feel a bit of a prick now. I take it back.

SH: Really?

JW: Yes, I feel bad about it.

SH: Badly. Adverb.

SH: That one thing, that's enough, set against everything else, to not only stop you being cross with me, but make you upset with yourself?

SH: Why?

JW: Because you did something genuinely nice and that overrides my objections.

SH: Does it matter? Genuine, not genuine? Really?

JW: Yes

SH: Why?

JW: You have no reason to do that, Sherlock, so if it weren't genuine you wouldn't have done it, but you did, and that makes you a better person.

SH: I might have done.

JW: Admitting it is the first step. Ask Harry, she's taken it six times and then fallen down on her arse.

SH: I'm not sure you understand.

JW: No, you did something nice.

SH: Yes, sure, fine.

JW: I have it on record now.

SH: Unless I make things up with Mycroft.

JW: Unless I back it up, which I've just done.

SH: Ever hear of hacking, John?

JW: Still don't know my new password.

SH: Mycroft's people don't need it.

JW: He won't do it. Blackmail.

SH: He might. I have a few things on him myself.

JW: Well, fine.

SH: But I won't ask. Consider it a Christmas gift.

JW: Why thank you. A flatmate with feelings, just what I wanted.

SH: I thought you wanted to be an only child who lived alone.

JW: Next closest thing.

SH: Not really.

JW: Shut up.

SH: Never.

JW: Good thing I'm bringing home duct tape and fruitcake then.

SH: Duct tape? People might talk.

JW: They already do.

SH: True. Too much.

JW: It was the riding crop.

SH: Ah, so you do remember how we met!

JW: Of course I do. Got to go, familial obligations.

SH: Dull. Do you have enough sherry?

JW: Wore off too soon I'm afraid.

SH: Ask Harry what would be more effective.

JW: Brandy.

SH: That would do it. I look forward to the texts.

JW: After dinner.


End file.
